Mr. Malice.
A long while back, I'd say 2003, I had this... Particular neighbor. He was graduating high school and was going to take a course in psychology. I only knew his last name; Marice. Being about six, I addressed him as Mr. Marice. He was the... Oddball of the neighborhood. He had a screaming red house, contrasting greatly from the calm browns and blues and whites of the other houses. It was one story, excluding the basement. I treated him as my second father. He was always mythical to me, with his pale, pale skin; almost sickly pale. His black hair was smooth and his almond eyes always glinted, usually in curiosity. He was lanky and tall, but seemed a friendly character. His basement shelves were littered with video games. Ones like Fallout, Grand Theft Auto, any games that questioned morale. How I regret that. He often read blogs of paranormal journalism, as he was a self-proclaimed cryptozoologist, and I struggled to climb his leg in interest, and when I finally made it up, I could identify the letters and a few words, but that was it, really. My parents were quite concerned by my friendship with him, much to my confusion. They went to the extreme of moving me to another section of town. Miles upon miles away from him. Years later, when I was about twelve-- fourteen, tops, I was riding in the family car, on an errand with my mom. We passed our old street. I peered at it in interest. The houses were charred in corners. All houses, except for Marice's. It only lasted for a couple seconds, but I absorbed the details. How some cars were left in the driveway and how some windows were half-assedly boarded up; abandoned, for sale. My curiosity was piquing and I swore to investigate once I returned home. It dawns upon me to mention a memory of my early childhood: I found my way to his house, one night. My feet were silent as I snuck in. I decided to peer into his basement, descending the stairs. How I regret that. In the room were cages, with animals inside. Chipmunks, a squirrel, a few birds and a stray cat. I kept away in the shadows as Marice paced to the cages, a bag of animal food in hand. It was then I noted the animals' pleasing eyes and caved-in stomach. ''Mr. Marice sure is kind! '' I thought, how he was feeding these animals. I was wrong. His smile seemed wicked, instead of kind. He held the food to the cages, the animals begging. He threw it behind him, I heard the bag explode upon hitting the wall, the pebbles of food rolling and flying about, one entering the cage of a rat. He treated it as if a buffet, devouring the food. Marice's eyes glinted in glee at the animals' pain. I fearfully snuck out of the house, pretending it never happened. And now this man, if I could call him that, had control over a neighborhood; his empire. It sent a shiver down my spine. I sighed, deciding he was more of Ma''l''ice than Marice. An evil man. When we returned home, I asked if I could go outside. I was told yes, and so I began my way to my old street. Dutifully, I entered his household, seeing the half-burnt buildings surrounding his house. He stood inside, in a pitch-black trenchcoat, his glasses covering half of his almond eyes, glinting in an almost red shade. His hair is spiked high. He speaks in a wispy, neutral voice, "''Hello ThErE, liTtle JaCob!" ''He greets, cackling. He held a lighter in his hand, adding a shadow to his face. I stared at him, slowly grabbing his phone. I type ''9-'' as he dropped the lighter, igniting the wooden floor. I type the remaining two digits as I call the police. It was determined I was 'mis-using' 911, as Marice retreated before the police showed up. The fire department came too late, as they found the entire building charred and smoking. They found the skeletons of animals, all charred. I fear that he'll find me once again. I moved across the state, miles upon miles upon miles away. But, I still fear his return. Category:Creepypasta Category:Creepypastas Category:Original Story